


I'm Helping

by thegrayness



Series: Rosebudd Writes February Prompts [10]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Tumblr: rosebuddwrites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 08:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22847473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrayness/pseuds/thegrayness
Summary: David 'helps' Patrick assemble his new desk.For prompt #17 from RosebuddWrites: "I don't understand"/On the floor
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Rosebudd Writes February Prompts [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619479
Comments: 9
Kudos: 117





	I'm Helping

**Author's Note:**

> [February Writing Prompts from Rosebudd Writes](https://rosebuddwrites.tumblr.com/post/190577309616/hey-yall-guess-whats-gonna-happen-in-february). 
> 
> Beta'd by [this_is_not_nothing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_not_nothing/pseuds/this_is_not_nothing/works).

David did not consider the consequences of agreeing when Patrick said: “Hey will you come with me to buy a new desk for my apartment?” He pictured browsing a chic office furniture store and then awaiting delivery a few weeks later and admiring Patrick at his new desk as he did something finance-y with Rose Apothecary’s spreadsheets. 

In reality, he was sitting on the floor in Patrick’s apartment, supervising the assembly of a mid-range awkwardly wood-colored “desk” that Patrick selected from a store called “Chuck’s ‘Wood’ Emporium.” It was most certainly  _ not _ made of wood, and David had given up offering bits of direction once Patrick muttered, “I don’t understand,” and laid down on his back to study the diagram that only vaguely resembled a desk. 

David scrolled through his phone, flicking between apps for no reason, desperate for something to do. “Hey,” he said, reaching over to flick the back of the paper Patrick was holding above his head. He made a noise of protest. 

“What?” He said, but didn’t put the paper down. He sounded grumpy, which David understood, because the entire thing was nonsense. They could be doing so much more with their time alone. 

David leaned over and gently tugged the manual out of Patrick’s hands, tossing it to the side. “Hi,” he said again, now that he could see Patrick’s face. He leaned all the way over Patrick, hands on either side of his head, as he watched the crinkle between Patrick’s brows smooth out as he smiled up at David. 

“Hi. Can I help you with something?” He asked, eyes dancing with amusement.

“Nope, I’m here to help out with the—the construction.” David tilted his head in the direction of the half-built furniture. 

“Mmhmm, help out, huh?” Patrick slid his hands up David’s arms, gently squeezing his biceps. 

“Yes, I have a great idea,” David insisted, leaning closer to Patrick’s face. 

“Yeah, and what might that be?” Patrick murmured, eyes fluttering closed as David kissed him, soft and sweet. 

“Does that help?” David whispered as he pulled back, only an inch. 

Patrick hummed. “I think we might need to try again to see,” he said, pulling David down so he was lying flat, half on Patrick and half on the floor. David grinned. 

“Great plan, Patrick let’s—”

Patrick cut him off with a firm kiss, bringing his hand up to slip his fingers through the hair at the back of David’s head. David groaned at the feeling of Patrick’s nails scritching at his scalp, and Patrick brushed his tongue between David’s lips. It was one of Patrick’s moves, actually, and David fell for it every time, falling into Patrick’s kisses with little whining noises in the back of his throat. Patrick’s hand tightened on his head, adjusting their positions so he could destroy David even better. 

David tilted his head as Patrick pulled away with a wet noise, and dragged his lips along David’s stubbled cheek, nipping at the sharp curve of his jaw and licking down to his throat. David moaned as Patrick used his teeth, worrying at a patch of skin that was definitely too high to be covered by any of David’s regular sweaters. “Patrick,” he gasped after a particularly stinging bite. He shifted his hips against the side of Patrick’s pressing in close and slipping a hand up the side of Patrick’s shirt. He dug his fingers into Patrick’s ribs, delighted to feel him squirm.

“David,” Patrick whispered into the skin of his neck. “We’re supposed to be building my desk,” he finished as he kissed his way back to David’s mouth. David laughed lowly, biting playfully at the fullness of Patrick’s pouty bottom lip. 

“I know. I’m helping.”


End file.
